summary: âSo, youâre like, friends?â Whitaker finally asked, Trinity and Langdon sat shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, tipsy and easy and thirty-three minutes post-painting each otherâs nails. (Blue for her, orange for Whitaker, the most neon shade of pink she could find for Langdon.)
âAlmost,â Trinity said, before Langdon could answer. She wanted the final say on that one. âWeâre going to be.â
âŠ..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.Â
the house of snow ⧠a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, youâre sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.Â
chapter summary: finally, coriolanus can call you his.Â
word count: 2,423
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: coryoâs pov, pet name (petal), not proofreadÂ
Coriolanus Snow was eighteen when he asked for your hand.Â
He had just graduated from the Academyâno thanks to Dean Highbottomâand he was due to ship out to whatever Peacekeeper base he was assigned to by the end of the week. He was fine with the idea of being a Peacekeeper. As fine as he could be, at least. Because his father had been a general during the war, people could easily believe that his enlistment was to honor his fatherânot because the Snows were penniless. His brilliance demanded more, of course, but he could come back to the Capital eventually. Perhaps find clever ways to invest his money.Â
The worst part, though, was the idea of not seeing you again. He loved, no, adored, his verbal sparring matches with you. He adored how you got a rise out of him so easily, as if you werenât even trying. He adored the way you occupied his every thought. To not be able to hear you rant, or see the way a smirk would curl across your face when you discovered something particularly clever to say, would be the death of him.Â
He surely looked pathetic, standing in your fatherâs office, his hands clasped together to hide their shaking as he asked, âSir, could I please have your daughterâs hand in marriage?â
Your father scarcely looked up from his paperwork. âYouâre shipping out soon, are you not? Or did my friends at the Peacekeeping Office mislead me?â
Coriolanus swallowed hard. âYes, sir. But your daughterâŠI have never met a more brilliant person.â More quietly, he admitted, âShe makes me want to be a better man.â
Your father glanced up, quickly, then looked down again. âShe deserves a better life than one on a military base.â
âI agree, sir. I will provide her one. I donât intend to serve the rest of my life.â Intent and reality were different. Competing. While Coriolanus might not want to be a Peacekeeper forever, he very well might be. âI already have a ring for her.â
He opened his hand and placed the ring on your fatherâs desk. It was a family heirloom. One of the few that hadnât been sold off to pay their debts. His Grandmaâam insisted that he keep it. He would need it, after all, for when he found the woman he wished to marry. And for every night after that day at the opera, he had pulled it from his nightstand and imagined how it might look, sitting prettily on your finger.Â
Your father glanced up again and pushed the ring away. âAsk again when your service is up.â
Every part of Coriolanus wanted to scream and shout and insist that he be granted your hand. No one could love you better, he was sure of it. But fighting your fatherâŠThat would ensure he never got to marry you. So, he swallowed again, plucked the ring from the desk, and thanked your father for his time.Â
Coriolanus Snow was eighteen, still, when he asked for your hand again.Â
Over the last several months, he had worn that ring alongside his dog tags. It was his only rebellion he had against the strict Peacekeeper regimen. It was his only reminder of what he was fighting so hard for. And now, after the Plinths had found some convoluted reason to grant him a portion of their fortuneâsomething about a debt that Sejanus owed him in schoolâhe was back in the Capital.Â
Your father was leaned back in his chair as Coriolanus asked again, making his case for why he would be a dutiful husband. When he finished, your father said, âThe ton knows how your wealth was squandered after the war. How you were only saved from ruin by the generosity of the Plinths.â Your father practically spat on their name. âWhy should I let my daughter marry into that?â
âI would never let her experience financial ruin, I can promise you that. What happened with my family was, is, a travesty. But we are a proud family, and we have been working to rebuild ourselves. There was hardly a family not so afflicted by the war. We might have had a boost by the Plinth family, but I will not allow our good name to be sullied.â
Your father eyed Coriolanus, scrutinizing every details. From how new his suit was, to the buzzcut that was slowly being grown out. âI donât doubt that. But I will need more reassurance that my daughter will be taken care of. You have to understand.â
Coriolanus could only nod, scared of what acid might fall from his lips if he deigned to speak.Â
âAsk again when you make a name for yourself.â
Coriolanus Snow was four and twenty when he asked again.Â
He was the King now. The Electors had granted him the title after the Former King Ravinstill passed. Coriolanus had fought like hell, clawed himself up from the pits of poverty, to get to this moment. He made sure he did everything right. Carefully coaxed the Electors and their families into thinking he was a friend. Convinced them that he would do right by Panem, do right by the Capital. Honeyed his words at every turn. But he did not care for any of that. All he wanted was to have you by his side, protected against any harm that may come your way. The only thing that stood in his way was the man standing before him.Â
Your father stood behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back. Coriolanus barely had gotten the question out when your father said, âYou have gone to great lengths to make a name for yourself these last five years.â
And he had. He barely participated in the social seasons beyond speaking to the families in power. Speaking to those who would have sway in his appointment as president when the time came. He made no time for himself. Coriolanus had a goal, and he would be damned if he didnât meet it.Â
âNone of it matters if I do not have a powerful woman by my side,â he said.Â
Your father let out a chuckle. âShe is something, isnât she? I worry what she might say if I tell her that Iâve given her away without even consulting her.â
The answer was no, Coriolanus realized. Nothing he did would be good enough for this man. âSir, with all due respect, I will come here every week and ask for her hand. There is nothing in this land I want more. Your daughter isâŠEverything to me. And I would give her everything just to make her smile. So, please, just tell me what I must do for you to give her away.â
Your father stared for a long, silent moment. âCourt her. Properly. Only then will I say yes.â
Coriolanus Snow was four and twenty, still, when he received your hand.Â
After a promenade in the square, after a spat where you thought yourself to be little more than a pawn in his game, Coriolanus had come to your fatherâs office. He could not prove his love to you during this courtship, not when you still thought there was a chance he would change his mind. No, he could only show his love when you knew that he had dedicated everything to marrying you.
Your father stood in front of Coriolanus. He hadnât even gotten the question out when your father said, âI suppose this will be the last time you come here like this?â
Coriolanus swallowed the proud smirk that dared to cross his face. Finally. Finally a yes. âYou can rest assured that she will want for nothing.â
âI donât doubt it with a man as persistent as you.â
Coriolanus Snow was four and twenty, still yet, as he stood at the altar, watching your father leading you down the altar.
You were a vision in white. Tigris had adorned you in a beautiful gown, white roses embroidered on the skirts and your lacy long sleeves. A veil obscured your face from him, but he was sure you looked like a proper Queen. The sort of woman that would send the proudest of men to their knees. And he would gladly kneel before you.Â
You stepped up to the altar alone, your father taking a seat beside your mother. Coriolanus reached for your hand and didnât let go as you stood in front of him.Â
âYou look beautiful,â he said.Â
âThank you, Coryo.â
He hoped you were smiling behind the veil. He hoped you were as happy as him. And he was sure you were when you whispered, âDo you think the officiant should faint if you kissed me now?â
Coriolanus laughed so hard that he considered kissing you right then and there before whisking you away to his private chambers, the rest of the ceremony be damned. âYou are wicked, petal, for teasing me like this.â
âYou take pleasure in it.â
And, oh, how he did.Â
Coriolanus never despised events more than when the ton celebrated his marriage while he bided his time to love you the way you deserved. He was tired of entertaining people. It was a beautiful ceremony and even more beautiful reception, to be sure, but Coriolanus could not stand the amount of people approaching him to offer their congratulations. Not, at least, when he was trying to kiss you and dance with you and tell you how he loved you.Â
You patted his hand as his knuckles turned white, clutching the arm of his chair, when yet another person came up to speak to him. âYou need to relax. The ton is going to think that something is wrong if you keep acting like this.â
âSomething is wrong,â he muttered. âI canât even enjoy my time with my wife because everyone thinks theyâre more worthy of my time. Worse yet, not a single one of them has so much as acknowledged you.â
How frustrating that was. Did the ton only think of you of some pretty little thing to hang off the Kingâs arm? Of course they would be so simple-minded. They did not realize you were the most brilliant person in the room. Perhaps more brilliant than him. They did not realize that you were his Queen and you were worthy of their respect. Oh, how they would learn when you would demand itâbecause he knew you would.
âAnd you can make that known later. Coryo, this is a day of celebration. Let them be frivolous today. Remind them of who you are and what that means later.â
Coriolanus released his grip on the chair. He took your hand in his own and rubbed his thumb over your fingers. âWho we are,â he corrected.
âWho we are,â you amended.Â
A smile tugged at his lips. âTheyâll learn to bow before you.â
âI donât want anyone to bow before me.â
âWhat do you want? I would give you anything. All you need do is ask.â
You said nothing. That is, until a new song began to play. You rose from your chair, and Coriolanus followed after you. âI would like to dance.â
Coriolanus led you to the middle of the floor, trying his best to mask his displeasure. He knew you better than to know you want nothing. Your family was well-to-do, but everyone had to be conscious of their spending as the Capital rebuilt itself. It was not lost on Coriolanus that your mother carefully rotated your wardrobe, ensuring that enough time had passed between one time you wore a gown and the next, less the ton realize that your family could not afford to constantly buy new dresses. Tigris had told him how you would come in to have your dresses tailored, how you could always eye the new fabrics she bought. How sometimes you would stay long after the tailoring to watch her design gowns. With him as your husband, Coriolanus would buy you as many gowns as you wanted. He would buy every book you were interested. Hell, he would adopt every cat in Panem and allow you to name them Coriolanus the III, IV, V, and VI and so on if it meant you were satisfied. You might never ask for it, but he would give you the world.Â
The ton watched as Coriolanus held onto your hand, the other falling to your waist. The music began to pick up as he spun you âround and âround and âround the floor. All Coriolanus could focus on was you. The rest of the room seemed to melt away. He pulled you closer, your body flush against his. Oh, how he loved you being this close to him. How he could hold you like this and no one could tell him any different.
You didnât seem to be as captivated as him. With every turn, you would glance over at the crowd, displeasure fighting its way onto your face.Â
âIgnore them. They are not worthy of your attention,â Coriolanus murmured.Â
âTheyâre like vultures, waiting to see me, us, trip,â you said.
âProve them wrong, then.â
âWhy should they care about what I say and do? They only view me as an extension of the King now,â you say, your nose wrinkling.Â
Coriolanus spared a glance at the crowd. Yes, he supposed they probably did. People in the ton so rarely appreciated true wit. Now that you were his wife, anything remarkable you did would be attributed to him. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. âThen make then listen. Make them see. Show them the woman I fell in love with.â
âIt doesnât matter. I donâtââ
âDonât you dare finish that sentence, petal,â Coriolanus said, his voice a near growl. âYou matter to me, and so you shall matter to them.â
You said nothing, much to his ire.
He let out a breath, careful to not lose his temper with you. You didnât deserve that, not when you were being vulnerable with him. Not when you were finally showing him the parts of you, you kept so artfully hidden. âTell me, whatâs going on in that brilliant mind of yours?â
You tore your eyes from the crowd and looked up at Coriolanus. Your mouth opened and, for a second, he thought you might tell him the truth. Instead, you only said, âIt doesnât matter.â
Oh, petal, when would you realize that you were all that mattered?
the house of snow ⧠a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, youâre sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.Â
chapter summary: he is in love.Â
word count: 1,823
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: a shorter chapter, coryoâs pov, soft!coryo, obsessive!coryo, pet name (petal), not proofread
Coriolanus Snow was fourteen years old when he fell in love. The academic year was nearly halfway over, just days away from winter break. Coriolanus hated breaks. His one hot meal a day would be ripped away from him for at least two weeksâlonger, perhaps, if the weather turned inclement when school was supposed to pick up again in January. The only good thing about a break was not having to carefully construct his image, to ensure that no one realized that the great house of Snow was falling. But he tried to not pay either issue any mind, choosing to focus instead on the Academyâs trip to the opera house.Â
It was supposed to be a culture day of sorts. Since the war and the Dark Days, the arts had been slow to return to the Capital. Most of the funding was spent on rebuilding efforts, ensuring that the Capitalâs citizens had places to sleep and things to eat. But the Plinth family had been funding the arts steadily over several months since being granted their title, enough so that the opera house could open its doors once every few weeks to hold a performance. Strabo Plinth paid for a Lordâs Room, and insisted that Sejanusâs class be able to attend one such performance.Â
Coriolanus did not particularly care for the arts. He could see their value, sure, in being able to memorialize parts of history, to show how the public viewed the changes in culture. It was a history lesson for him and little more than that.Â
His mistake, of course, was muttering that to Sejanus as they took their seats in the front row of the Lordâs Room. Or, rather, his mistake was saying such a thing within your earshot.Â
âI beg your pardon?â you said, peering around Sejanus.Â
Coriolanus stiffened, surprised to be called out so publicly. It was one thing for you to question his ideas in the classroom. He didnât mind that. It kept him sharp. It made him always prepared to provide a solid rebuttal to a counterargument. But this? He didnât know what to do with this. âI believe our time could be better spent than listening to people sing in a language that we donât even understand yet.â
âIt is remarkable to think that a boy so intelligent could think so lowly of the arts,â you said, turning your nose in the air. âThe arts bring us a sense of community. It allows us to come together and understand the way our society functioned and continues to function. It breeds creativity, and with that, innovation. Do you think we would have such impressive advancements if not for people becoming inspired by the beautiful? You think youâll become a man of logic, of sound mind, but you will be little more than a cynic if you do not appreciate the arts.â
He blinked. Well. He didnât know how to rebut that. He tried, though, because Snows do not back down from a challenge. âI can understand the value of poetry and prose. But a performance? It seems more gratuitous than anything beneficial to proper society.â
âPerhaps you are of simple mind, then,â you said. You turned your attention to Sejanus. âAre you also simple?â
Heat rose to Coriolanusâs face. He prayed that he did not look as red as he felt. Before Sejanus could answer you, he said, âAre you of simple mind? I can hardly think of a reason to attack someoneâs intelligence other than for a lack of a proper argument.â
Rather than looking as embarrassed as Coriolanus felt, you only laughed. âFair enough, I suppose. How about, you try to find enjoyment in this performance and if you donât, you can gloat without interruption or criticism.â
âI shall agree to your terms.â
But as the performance began, Coriolanus could hardly focus on anything other than you. How you sat at the edge of your seat. How you propped an arm up on the railing, cradled your face in your palm. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you absorbed every note. You were mesmerized and mesmerizing. He couldnât look away. Coriolanus might not have learned the importance of opera that day, but he certainly realized you were a work of art all your own.Â
Coriolanus Snow fell in love at fourteen years old in an opera house.Â
Two weeks later, when the Academy students returned from break, he left a single white rose he begged his Grandmaâam for on your desk. You did not know it was from him, but he didnât seem to mind. Not when you showed the flower to everyone you saw. Not when you wore it so proudly in your hair.Â
And, now, ten years later, he brought you another rose as you sat curled up in his palaceâs library.Â
You had not yet noticed his presence as he stood several feet away. He didnât mind, though. Coriolanus fell in love with you when you didnât even realize he was watching, and he fell further in love with you every moment he had to admire you.Â
Coriolanus twisted the rose by its stem pinched between his fingers. It was not often that he felt anxious, but it was becoming more frequent. After everything that happened with Sejanus, he found himself becoming paranoid that you might run away. That everything you said that evening was an elaborate ruse and that you were waiting until the last moment to run away to the base Sejanus was stationed at. That, despite his efforts in intercepting Sejanusâs letters to you, one might have slipped through and you were just biding your time.Â
Still, he felt the need to apologize to you. He was not sure how truthful you had been when you said you intended to tell him of Sejanusâs plan. He wanted to believe it, to be sure. But Coriolanus had been angry enough to murder Sejanus then and there, and he was sure you realized that. Coriolanus was worried that he scared you, that he might have gone a hair too far in ensuring you would not be taken away. That one day soon he might wake to news that you were goneârunning off to a life with Sejanus or a life away from him, he wasnât sure.
And yet, here you were. You had come to the palace unchaperoned, of your own accord. You had done so every day this week. You let him kiss you, and you kissed him. You let him hold you. He did not go further than thatânothing more than passionate kisses and longing touches. Not because he did not desire it, but because he wanted to know you desired it. It meant little to him to have you as a wife in name. He wanted to drive you as insane as you drove him.Â
Your head lifted as his footsteps echoed across the floor. You watched him as he approached, knelt down before you, and plucked the book from your hands. He marked the page you were on and set it aside, replacing the book with the rose.Â
You stared at the rose, admiring its pure white petals. âThank you, Coryo,â you said.
Oh, how he loved for you to say his name. He wished, of course, for it to arise under different circumstances, but he loved it nonetheless.Â
You reached down, a hand cupping his chin, and pulled him up to meet your lips. Coriolanus kissed you softly, as if you might break, before he moved away and took a seat next to you. He pulled you into his side, his arm snaked around your waist as your head fell against his chest. Your legs curled up under you. You burrowed yourself further into him.Â
âThe ton might soon think we have held a secret wedding if you continue spending your every waking hour here, petal,â he teased. He wouldnât mind if they thought that. Anything to keep the ton from trying to take you away.Â
âThe ton would believe we lived on the moon if someone was convincing enough.â
He laughed and shook his head. It was nice for you to tease but not direct it at him. âI am pleased you spend so much time here now, though.â
âItâŠfeels safer.â
Oh. Oh, he liked that. How long had he been hoping you would say something like this? Coriolanus lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. As much as he liked the push and pull with you, this was better. This was nicer. This was the sort of life he deserved.Â
âYeah?â
âI donât feel like I have to pretend to be someone else. When I am with the rest of the ton, I have to still act like a respectable young lady. At home, I canât even read in peace. But when I am here, I can read and call you horrible names without judgment.â
Coriolanus snorted. âOh, I judge you for the names you call me.â
âBut you donât stop me either.â
âNo, I suppose I donât.âÂ
And why would he? He loved your wit. Even if there were times he wished you would tone it down, he appreciated that you didnât put up with bullshit. Coriolanus had little respect for people that allowed others to walk all over them. In his view, most of the ton was like that. You, however, were a beautiful, shining exception.Â
Coriolanus glanced around the room, making sure that Coriolanus the Cat was not around. Whenever he tried to kiss you, that damned cat would appear out of nowhere to try to claw his face off. (Or, as you put, âplay with him.â) Coriolanus wasnât sure if you were in cahoots with Sejanus, but he was certain that you were in leagues with the cat. Once he was sure the cat was not preparing for attack, Coriolanus cupped your face in his hands and pulled you in for a kiss.
âYou can call me anything, and I will still adore you,â he mumbled against your lips. âI loveâOW!â
You pulled away with a laugh as Coriolanus the Cat pounced on top of his head. You reached for the cat, cradling the beast in your arms, cooing at it. âWe donât attack our papa, Coriolanus,â you said, pressing a kiss to the top of its head. âHe doesnât deserve that, does he?â
Coriolanus glowered at the cat. âI donât think thatâs my son. I think heâs a bastard.â
You swatted at his chest. âDonât be rude, he can hear you!â
Coriolanus leaned down and whispered in the catâs face, âbastard,â before pulling away before the cat could claw his face off. But, while the cat was trapped in your arms, he did take an opportunity to steal another kiss, grinning as you giggled against his lips.Â
the house of snow ⧠a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, youâre sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.Â
chapter summary: sejanus crosses a line.Â
word count: 5,961
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: scheming sejanus, jealous!coryo, angry!coryo, arguing, threats of execution, pet name (petal), not proofread
Thank you for the invitation. Though it was signed by Coryo, I imagine that you are the one who advocated for my presence at tonightâs opera. I appreciate that you hold our friendship in such high regard. That is why I write to you now. Ma has already confirmed our attendance for tonight, but I was hoping that I might be able to speak to you in private. During intermission, please meet meâ
A knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts.Â
âAre you nearly ready?â your father asked from the other side of your door.Â
âJust a moment more!â you called out, hurrying to return the letter to its envelope. You rose from your seat at the vanity, sparing a glance at your reflection to ensure nothing was out of place, before tucking the letter in your trunk at the end of your bed.Â
When you reached your door, you took a breath. Your father was a perceptive man. If he saw your nerves were jumbled, he would have questions and you could not handle questions at this moment.Â
Your father smiled as you opened the door. Then he frowned, glancing around the room behind you. âWhere is your ladyâs maid?â
âI dismissed her after I finished getting ready. I wanted some time to go through my correspondence.â It was perhaps best to tell the truth in that regard. What your father didnât need to know what that you were just reading the one letter, over and over and over again, trying to surmise if it was real, if there was a trick being played against you.Â
âI should hope you were not writing any replies. The last thing you need is to get ink everywhere.â
âNo, Papa, I was only reading them and sorting out which ones needed to be replied to first.â Well, that was a lie. But it was harmless enough. You hoped.Â
When you received Sejanusâs letter in the mail, it confused you. You were never the sort of friends that wrote to each other. It certainly would have been presumptuous if you had. But when you read the contents of the letter, learned of his proposed plan, it only served to confuse you further. You had spent the entire day reading the letter as your ladyâs maid pinned your hair into an elaborate updo, applied your makeup, and even as you dressed. You were half sure that if you read it enough times, Sejanus himself might materialize to tell you it was all just a clever joke. That he didnât really mean it. You knew Sejanus well enough, though, to know that he was quite serious about these sorts of things.Â
Your father nodded, then extended his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his arm and allowed him to guide you downstairs. He was silent for a moment while you walked, but when he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped.Â
âIs there something wrong?â you asked. Had he already caught on to your ruse? Would he demand to see the letters and know that there was only one? Would he tell Snow?Â
âI wanted to thank you for your cooperation,â he said. âI know this match was not what you hoped it to be, but I swore when you were born that I would do everything in my power to ensure that you are taken care of for life. You may not have gotten the love match you wished for, but you will be marrying into a reputable family with the resources available to provide you the best life imaginable. His Majesty will take care of you. He will be a good husband to you.â
âYou cannot possibly know that.â
He sniffed, then conceded, âNo, I suppose I donât. But His Majesty was incredibly persistent. He had been asking for your hand for some timeââ
âWhat?â
He blinked, as if he was surprised you didnât know. But how could you? How could you have known? âWhen you graduated from the Academy, he asked for your hand. I suppose he hoped for you to join him on base while he served as a Peacekeeper. That certainly wouldnât have been an appropriate life for you, so I told him no. Then when he returned, he asked again. I told him I wished to see him prove himself to be a worthy husband for you. I never imagined that he would become King, of course, but it was a pleasant surprise. A welcome one, really, all things considered. Just before the season began this year, he asked again. I had no reason to tell him no, except that I wished for him to properly court you before we reached any firm agreement.â
You did the math in your head. If what your father said was true⊠âIâm four and twenty. If he has been asking since I graduated, then he has wanted to marry me for five years.â
âLonger, I presume. He already had a ring when he asked for your hand the first time.â He looked down at your hand. âThe same one, if memory serves well. Cleaner, though.â
ThatâŠYou didnât know what to do with that. How long had Snow been vying for your attention? Even with Sejanusâs revelation that Snowâs feelings for you had been genuine, you assumed it was a recent development. Certainly not something that extended back to your schooldays. Had the bickering always been one-sided? No, that couldnât beâŠ
âWe hated each other in school. We tormented each other,â you said, more to yourself than your father.Â
But he laughed as if you spoke to him. âSometimes, boys are mean to the girls they are interested in. Any attention is better than no attention, in their eyes.â
âI donât know what to do with this,â you admitted.Â
âKnow that you will be loved. I have never seen any man be so dedicated to something, someone, for it not to be done out of love.â
Downstairs, the butler announced Snowâs arrival. Snow entered the room, his blue eyes immediately finding yours. Your father moved to start down the stairs, but you remained planted firmly in place. A question nagged at your mind. If Snow had been asking for your hand for five yearsâŠ
âWhy did you act like I had to convince Snow to marry me when the season started? If you all but promised him my hand?â
His eyebrows raised. âMy little dove, you have never done what you were told. If I said that you were to be wed to His Majesty, you would have all but runaway to avoid it.â
âBut why act like it was my responsibility to get his attention? To throw myself at his feet when he already wanted to marry me?â
He was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Finally, he settled on, âIf you thought that you were serving your family by pursuing His Majesty, I had hoped that you would have seen his intentions were pure and good. It might not have been a love match in the traditional sense, but it would not have been a loveless arrangement.â
Nothing, you thought, about Snow was pure and good. âMy fate was already set in stone. It didnât matter what I did, you would have married me off regardless.â
âDonât put it like that, little doveââ
You dropped your fatherâs arm, gathered your skirts, and walked down the stairs alone as Snow moved to wait for you at the bottom. A smile grew on his face as he watched you. It looked so genuine. You supposed it was.Â
Snow held his arm out to you as you reached the last few steps. You slipped your hand into his, letting him guide you down the final steps, before holding onto his bicep when you reached the ground floor.
âI like that color on you,â he said, eyeing the blue fabric.Â
âYou should. It took Tigris hours to find the shade closest to your eyes.â Your mother was insistent that, as the future Queen, you should build your wardrobe to complement your future husband as much as possible.Â
âI shall send her my compliments then. Are you ready to leave?â
You nodded.Â
âGood. We shall be riding alone this evening. Will that be alright?â
It wouldnât have mattered if it did. Everyone else in your life was making decisions for you. Choosing what was best for you without ever asking what you wanted. What you desired. But you were angry at your father. Angry at both of your parents, because you were sure your mother knew something about this, too. Angry that they both would keep this from you instead of just telling you that you were to marry the King. You might have respected their decision more if they had.Â
âI should kill my parents if I have to spend a moment with them tonight.â
Snow blinked. âShould I be concerned?â
âIf you value your life, then you shouldnât be.â
At that, Snow let out a huff of a laugh. âTo kill the King would be treason.â
âIs a threat worth the same weight?â
âI would imagine so.â
âThen string me up at the gallows.â
He shook his head at you. He looked amused, like he didnât take your words seriously. He probably thought you were just bickering to get on his nerves like you always did. âI would make an exception for you, petal.â
You turned your head, looking back up at your father, who still stood at the top of the stairs, dumbfounded. You turned back to Snow. âI wouldnât kill you, for what itâs worth. As it turns out, you are the only person who has been honest with me recently.â
A frown settled on Snowâs face. âIs everything alright?â
You rolled your tongue over your teeth, contemplating whether you should tell him or not. It would be nice to vent, even to someone like Snow. But you didnât wish to do it in front of your father, the source of your ire. And you werenât sure you wouldnât cry if you did talk about it. âI donât wish to ruin my evening any further. Shall we go?â
Snow looked you over. Seeing nothing that would demand his immediate concern, he said, âWe shall. But if you change your mindâŠâ
âI will tell you if I do.â
The ride to the opera house was quiet. You werenât sure if Snow was silent because he was giving you the space you asked for, or if he was concerned that your ire might soon turn on him. But he held your hand the entire time, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. Ordinarily, you would have been annoyed at the action. It was merely another way for Snow to exert a level of control over you. This time, however, it brought you some modicum of comfort.Â
âI invited the Plinths per your request,â he murmured.
That should have lifted your spirts, but it only made your stomach churn. You couldnât let Snow know that, of course. As hard as you fought for the Plinthsâ presence, he would be less than pleased if you revealed you wished he hadnât extended the invitation. âThank you.â You squeezed his hand, more for your comfort than his own. âI appreciate that.â
Even if you didnât appreciate it in the moment, you probably would appreciate his willingness to abide by your wishes in the future (though, you supposed you did have to coerce him to do it).Â
Snow smiled and squeezed your hand back. âAnd I appreciate your vivaciousness. Even if it makes me want to pull my hair out.â
âThat would be a shame,â you said before you could really think.Â
âWhat?â
Well, you already got this far. You might as well finish the thought. âThe nicest part about you is your hair. If you pulled it all out, you wouldnât have anything going for you.â
Snow laughedâa genuine laugh. âIf my hair is the key to gaining your affections, then I shall be sure to not pull it out.â
You laughed, too. It wasâŠodd. How light you felt with Snow now. Though you still objected to how he asked for your hand, how your father gave you no choice in this matter, it was different knowing that Snow might not be doing all of this as some way to spite you. To get back at you for all the fights you had with him over the years.
The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper. If Snow found out about Sejanusâs letter, Sejanusâs plan, you could not imagine it ending well. Any semblance of goodwill he held for you could be ruined in a matter of minutes. Would you be set up for a miserable marriage if you withheld the information from him?Â
âSnow, Iââ
The carriage lurched to a halt. Your words died in your throat as the door opened. Snow stepped out first, then held a hand out for you to take. He helped you out of the carriage, his hands settling on your waist as you gained your footing. Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling.Â
As you moved to take Snowâs arm, he asked, âWould you like to wait for your parents or would you like to go our seats?â
You glanced back, seeing your family carriage in the distance. The idea of seeing your father again made you grind your teeth together. âLetâs go inside.â
Snow led you to one of the Lordâs Rooms where you would sit in the upper balcony of the opera house. It had been some years since you had been able to sit in one of the Lordâs Rooms. Since your time at the Academy, you supposed. These seats were saved for the upper echelon of the Capitalâs elite. While your parents certainly were wealthy and titled, they could not quite afford such expensive seats. Truthfully, for a long time after the war ended, only the King and some dukes could afford it. It was only in recent years that marquesses, earls, and viscounts could begin sitting there again.Â
You took a seat front and center of the Lordâs Room, Snow taking the seat to your left. A smile tugged at his face as you tried to not let your jaw fall slack.Â
âAre you pleased with the seats, petal?â he asked.Â
âItâs perfect,â you admitted, because it was.Â
When you looked over at him, his smile had grown, his chest ever so slightly puffed out. Oh, he was proud of himself for this. You supposed he should be. If he had been vying for your attention for as long as your father insinuated, you imagined there was no limit to the lengths Snow would go to make you happy.Â
âGood.â
You were curious, though, to the lengths that Snow would go. âWhat would you have done if I was displeased?â
âErect an opera house to your exact specifications.â
You couldnât help the laugh that escaped your lips. To suggest such a thing was absurd. You were an intelligent young woman to be sure, but you hardly had the education required to design an opera house that both functioned as necessary and would not topple over in a gust of wind. âThen we should be thankful I am content here or else we might have to test the limits to the royal familyâs protection from liability.â
Snow waved that off, though he still smirked at you referring to yourself as part of the royal family. âI would send anyone who would even think to sue you to the gallows.â
âSo protective,â you teased. There was silence, for a moment, as you looked at Snow. Conversation was flowing easily, with none of its usual bite. Perhaps talking about your conversation with your father would be nice. To at least alleviate the stress you carried in your shoulders. âI am upset with my papa because of you.â
And that, perhaps, was the worst way to begin the conversation when you saw the way Snowâs smile turned into a frown. Oh dear, he probably thought you were trying to pick a fight. âI beg your pardon?â
âWhat I mean to say is, at the beginning of the season, when it was announced you were seeking a bride, my papa told me that I had to do whatever it took to win you over, even sacrifice my ideals. He made it seem as if it was something I had to do for the family. I refused, of course, but that did nothing to stop you from seeking me out. I wondered why for a long while, spent a long time convinced it was because you were trying to get back at me for all our quibbles over the years. But then I remembered Sejanus had told me that you were interested in me when we were children.â
Snowâs jaw ticked at the mention of Sejanus, so you quickly continued before he could spit some vitriol about your shared friend (for now, at least).Â
 âThat made no sense to me at the time he told me, of course, but the longer we courted, it started to feel real. Then, this evening, my papa told me that you had asked for my hand three times before. That you fought with me because you liked my attention, not necessarily because you had substantial disagreement with me. And when I asked, he said he lied to me about my needing to sacrifice my ideals to win you over, because he knew that I was already going to be your bride by the end of the season. I cannot respect a man who withholds things from me.â
âI apologize if I disrespected you, butââ
âNot you, my papa. It is clear now that, as far as this season was concerned, you had always made your intentions known. I can admire that. But my papaâŠI donât know if I can trust him again. Or my mama, because I am sure she knew something about it, too.â
Snow considered you for a moment, before admitting, âIf I had known you were kept in the dark, I would have told you. I assumed you knew I had spoken with your father and that that was part of the reason you kept fighting me. Telling me that you would rather marry anyone else but me.â
âNo, I was, for once, clueless.â
He reached over for your hand. You allowed him to take it. âWell, you can rest assured that I will not let you be clueless as long as I can help it. We are to be partners in this marriage. There is no one that I could trust more to run this kingdom and raise our family than you.â
Your stomach twisted. All of this talk of honestyâŠIt made you feel ill. You knew you should tell Snow about Sejanusâs letter. If he ever found out, any trust he had in you would easily be broken. You imagined he would lock you away in the palace, never let you see anyone but the staff and the heirs he would have you produce. And SejanusâŠYou shuddered at the idea of what Snow would do to him. It would make isolation look kind, you were sure.Â
Knowing you had no other choice, you tried again to tell him. âSnow, I wish to tell you one more thingââ
You were cut off by the sound of Sejanus greeting you and Snow. You prayed you did not look as ill as you felt.Â
âYou look radiant this evening,â Sejanus said to you as he came to your side. Oh, Sejanus, he should not say those sorts of things. Not in front of Snow. Not when you knew how he felt.Â
Snow rose to his feet, dropping your hand. It was the polite thing to do as a gentleman, but you knew it was more a power play than anything else. And, though Sejanus towered over Snow, something about the way Snow held himself made him seem like the giant. âShe does, doesnât she? It must be the pre-marital bliss.â
You ignored Snow. Well, if you couldnât tell Snow about the letter now, you might as well make polite conversation until the next opportunity arose. âThank you, my lord. You look quite dashing yourself. Did Tigris design your suit?â
âShe did,â he beamed. Oh, Sejanus, donât smile at you like that. âShe is the only one I trust to not make me look like a fool.â
âFunny,â Snow muttered.Â
You looked at him, your brows furrowed together. Was he trying to suggest Sejanus was a fool? Did Snow know something you didnât? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he somehow already know of the letter? âWhat is?â
Snow blinked, as if he hadnât expected you to hear him. A smile twitched at his lips. âYou had said something similar, once.â
âAh. Well, she is the best. Many people feel quite strongly over her,â you said. You smoothed a wrinkle on your dress. All of the kind talk between you and Coryo made you feel uneasy now that Sejanus was here. âIt must be infuriating to know people like Tigris while they tolerate you.â
âDonât be cruel,â Sejanus chided as Snowâs jaw clenched and unclenched. Donât join in on the teasing. It will only make things worse.Â
âBut itâs so easy.â
Sejanus took the seat to your right. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Snowâs hands flexed, as if he was restraining himself from lashing out at Sejanus. Knowing that no one could see your face but Snow and Sejanus, you allowed yourself to roll your eyes. The corner of Sejanusâs mouth twitched up into a smirk. In any other circumstance, you might have been laughing with him at Snowâs expense. This all felt too confusing for youâsomething you would rather attempt to process in private rather than search your feelings in the moment. So you moved to the edge of your seat, propping your arm against the railing, leaning your cheek against your palm. Snow, as he sat back down, reached for your other hand, and you allowed him to take it. Jealous little thing, he was. But you couldnât find it in yourself to mind.Â
The performance soon began with little more spoken between you, Snow, and Sejanus. Mostly talks about your upcoming nuptials, which made it feel like a knife was being twisted in your stomach. If you didnât know better, you would have thought that Sejanus was trying to be cruel. Sejanus, though, was something of an angel, and you were sure he didnât have a mean bone in his body. Perhaps that was why you were so nervous about this. You knew how Snow would read Sejanusâs actions. You knew it would be far from good.Â
You tried to push those thoughts away as the performers sang. It had been so long since you had been able to go to the opera, and you wanted to enjoy this moment. Snow would likely bring you to more performances, but just in case, you wanted to have fun while you could. Yet, Sejanus could not leave your mind. He felt entirely too close. It was almost suffocating. And when you dared to glance at him from the corner of your eye, and you saw the way his hand was placed on the arm of his chair, his palm face up, you felt ill.Â
So ill, you could not stand it.Â
When you dropped Snowâs hand, moving to leave the Lordâs Room, Snow rose to his feet. âIs everything alright, petal?ââ
âIâm not feeling well. I just need to step outside for a moment,â you said.Â
Sejanus, too, stood. âWhatâs wrong?â
Oh, donât do that. Donât give Snow anymore reason to get upset or concerned.
You waved Sejanus off. âItâs too stuffy in here. I just need a moment.â
Snow watched you, his brows pinched together. You again wondered if he could read your mind, if he knew what you knew. Or perhaps he was acting as if he cared in his own weird way, trying to ascertain if he needed to go with you just in case this was something more serious. âIf you wish to leave early, we can. I donât want you to feel as if we must stay even if you are ill.â
Donât be kind. Youâre not sure you deserve it. âI donât believe itâs that serious. Please, sit. I shall be back before you can even think to miss me.â
Somewhat reluctantly, Snow sat down. Sejanus remained standing, watching as you turned to leave. It was not until you left the Lordâs Room, sparing a glance over your shoulder, that you saw Sejanus sit down, too.
It was easier to breathe outside of the room. Not much by much, but certainly easier. Being sat between Snow and Sejanus, even if had been something of your own doing, had become something of a personal hell. Damn Sejanus. Damn him. This evening wasnât supposed to be like this. You were supposed to have a nice evening at the opera. You were supposed to get on Snowâs nerves. You were supposed to laugh with Sejanus and not worry about his insane ideas. It was supposed to be nice, notâŠwhatever it was about to become.Â
You found a somewhat secluded area of the foyer and leaned against the wall, trying to steady your heartbeat. You did not know if Snow or Sejanus or both would follow you. If they did, you worried about the other people who were invited eavesdropping on the conversation, realize that there was more than meets the eye regarding your betrothal to Snow. Oh, you would not be able to handle that scandal.Â
After a minute or two, the sound of the opera singer ringing in the background, you pushed yourself off the wall. It had been long enough that Snow would become concerned and come looking for you. And it was close enough to intermission that Sejanusâ
âYou look like youâve seen death.â
You sucked in a breath. âYou need to leave.â
Sejanus stepped closer to you. Too close. He reached out, brushing a loose curl away from your face. You fought the urge to flinch away. âWe can goââ
You couldnât help but laugh. âYou cannot truly believe I would leave with you, can you? Sejanus, Snow is the King. He would do everything in his power, utilize every resource at his disposal, to find us and bring us straight to the Capital. You would lose your head, and I would never see daylight again.â
âThat should not matter if we love each other. We could find somewhere no one could ever find us. We could live a life all of our own, never have to worry about anything else.â
âBut I donât love you.âÂ
âCoryo told me that you would rather marry me. That you thought I am an easy man to love. Is that not enough?â
You squeezed your eyes shut. It was so hard to look at him and not cry. Why was he making this so difficult? Why was he putting you in this position? âI might have loved you. In a different life, maybe. But I do not feel what you feel for me. I will not risk my life and yours for a maybe.â
âBut you will risk a life of unhappiness with Coryo?â
Why did no one listen to you?Â
Why did no one care to ask you what you wanted and actually listen?Â
âIt is not as if Snow hates me. He cares, in his own way. Even if he shows it in his strange ways. I would want for nothing with him.â
âCan you love him?â Sejanus stepped even closer to you. He cupped your face in his hands. You squeezed your eyes tighter. âTell me you will be happy with him, and I will leave you alone. I wonât bring this up ever again. I will leaveââ
Sejanus was ripped away from you before he could finish speaking. Your eyes flew open. What was happening? Whyâ
Oh.Â
Oh no.Â
Snowâs face was blood red, his knuckles nearly matching as he gripped Sejanusâs jacket. âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing?â he spat.Â
âCoryo, Iââ
âYou said you didnât wish to marry her. You said you wouldnât try to take her from me. Was that a life? Were you trying to catch me with my guard down? What happened to not wanting to hurt me?â
âPleaseââÂ
You had never seen Snow so angry in all your life. Not even when you would spend every day at the Academy arguing with him. Not even when you had told him that you considered marrying Sejanus. Was Snow going to hurt Sejanus? He looked angry enough to kill. You couldnât let that happen.Â
âSnowââ you tried to say, but he did not hear you.Â
âI should have the Peacekeepers drag you through the streets, throw you in a cell, and let you rot. I should have you executed,â Snow hissed. âThis is treason.â
âPlease, Snowââ you tried again.Â
You tried to think. Tried to figure out something, anything, to say that could quell Snowâs anger. But you couldnât even get through to him. Itâs like he didnât even realize you were speaking to him. Oh, what could you say?
âI should make your execution a fucking spectacle. I should make everyone watch as you are hungââ
âCoryo, stop!â
Snowâs head snapped to you. His pale blue eyes looked you up and down, as if he was trying to determine if he should direct his ire to you. He let go of Sejanusâs jacket with a push. Ordinarily, it wouldnât have made Sejanus stumble, but the sheer weight of everything brought the man tumbling down. Snow took a step towards you, his voice dangerously low as he asked, âWhy should I?â
âI was telling him no. I donât want to go with him,â you said, careful not to say Sejanusâs name. Saying his name in ordinary circumstances drove Snow insane. You hated to imagine what he might do if you did so now. He might just kill Sejanus with his bare hands. His hands. You glanced down, then reached for one of Snowâs hands. It was clenched into a fist, but he allowed you to open his hand, intertwine your fingers with his own. âI want to marry you, Coryo. I want to be your wife.â
Snow stared at your connected hands. He squeezed your hand. It looked like he couldnât believe this was real. âHe followed you out here. Were you planning to run away?â
You couldnât lie to him. Not now. âHe sent a letter this morning. He wanted to run away at intermission, when it was easy to disappear in a crowd. IâŠI tried to tell you, before he arrived this evening. I never intended to go with him.â
âHe followed you.â
I didnât ask him to, you wanted to say. But you knew that wouldnât do anything to diminish Snowâs anger. Instead, you said, âI wish you followed me instead.â
When Snow looked at you, you could see his eyes softened ever so slightly. âI thought you might want some space.â
Though you did not wholly believe in what you were saying, you knew it was working to calm him down. âAll I want is you, Coryo.â
For a second, a smile began to tug at Snowâs lips. But it vanished all too quick as he heard Sejanus begin to rise to his feet. âHe needs to be punished.â
âDonât have him killed.â When Snowâs eyes narrowed, you quickly added, âI donât want the death of your friend, your best friend, to weigh heavily on your conscious. I-I know youâre upset now, rightfully so, but that should not mean you send him to the gallows.â
His jaw clenched and unclenched as he weighed your words. âThen what do you suggest I do? If we are to be partners in life, you shall have a say in carrying out punishments.â
Oh, he was being cruel. Perhaps rightfully so. Snow would not harm you physically, but he would not be so above hurting you emotionally. You had not told him about the letter, and in his eyes, you were sure that put you on a similar level of treason as Sejanusâs actions.Â
You fought the urge to look at Sejanus. âHe shall enlist in the Peacekeepers,â you decided. âYou can ensure he has an assignment far away from the Capital. Give him time to consider his betrayal.â
Snow said nothing. You worried he would dismiss your suggestion and call for the Peacekeepers anyways. That he would force you to watch as Sejanus was hung. You stepped closer, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. âPlease, Coryo?â
When you pulled away, Snow was blinking a mile a minute. You prayed that was enough to convince him, to show him that you were loyal to him. To spare Sejanusâs life.
âGo,â Snow spat at Sejanus.Â
Sejanus gave a shaky nod. He dared to look at you, his mouth beginning to open. Whatever he intended to say, though, was lost.Â
âIf you are going to say anything, it should be to express your gratitude to her for sparing you from an execution.â
Sejanus swallowed. âThank you.â
âIf I learn that you have not enlisted by morning, however, I will follow through with stringing you up at the gallows.â
Sejanus nodded again and quickly left before more could be said. For his sake, you prayed he went straight to the enlistment offices. You werenât sure if they were open at this time of night, but if he went now, he might be able to enlist first thing in the morning when they did open.Â
You let your head fall against Snowâs chest. His heart thumpâd, thumpâd, thumpâd quickly. You wound your arms around his waist. âThank you,â you whispered. And as he hugged you back, you added, âAnd I apologize for not telling you of his plans. IâŠI didnât think he would be so foolish to try to follow through on them. Or, I suppose, I hoped he wouldnât.â
âYou truly wouldnât have left with him?â
âI only want a life with you, Coryo. YouâŠmay not be an easy man to love, but that does not mean I cannot love you.â Maybe if you said it enough times, you mused, it would become true.Â
Snow pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. âI want to move up the wedding date.â
You shut your eyes. âYouâll work poor Tigris to the bone trying to finish my gown in time,â you tried to tease. Your heart wasnât quite in it.Â
âYou could show up at the altar in a dressing gown for all I care. I donât want anyone else trying to steal you away before I can make you mine.â
If this was the sort of anger you would have to grapple with should anyone else tryâ âNor do I.â You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. A print of your lipstick left behind a stain. âI truly am sorry, Coryo.â
Maybe if you called him by his pet name enough times, he would forget this ever happen.Â
âDonât let it happen again.â
As you stood there in his tight embrace, people began spilling out into the foyer. Intermission, it seemed, had arrived. And not a single one of them were aware of events that just transpired.Â
hi guys i recently became aware of a gofundme for this palestinian man to rebuild his bakery it doesn't have much traction on twitter so im posting here !! please do not ignore this !!
remember a ceasefire is NOT the end and the effects of genocide will still persist. palestinians have lost so much more than we think and it will be difficult to return to their normal lives especially with all their businesses, schools and communities being destroyed.
anything you can contribute would likely be very appreciated. please reblog at least if you cannot donate! and have a read of the fundraiser description too. it will help put things into perspective as we're becoming more desensitised. we should not only be aware of life once it is taken away, but value and support it as it remains. continue to project palestinian voices and keep information moving by reblogging & reposting !!
An unfulfilled dream... I write these words unsure if the message will reac⊠Mahmoud Mush needs your support for Help Mahmoud rebuild hi
Just because we aren't seeing more posts about Palestine, doesn't mean the genocide has stopped. Let's keep Praying and speaking up for Gaza, Palestine.
*coriolanus and reader are in university. coriolanus towards the end of his final year, reader in her second to last. coriolanus is in preparations for campaigning.
rating: explicit (18+) â mind the tags, see masterlist for disclaimers
summary: against your wishes, you call the curtain on your relationship with coriolanus snow and walk out of his life for good. against your wishes, he waltzes back in like nothing's changed.
tags: exes to lovers, it's complicated, slow burn but they're constantly fucking, manipulation, toxic relationship, power play, unprotected sex, bdsm, dom!coriolanus, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, spit kink, bondage, pearl play, choking, shoe riding, degradation, dirty talk, brat taming, penetrative sex (piv), aftercare.
taglist: comment here to be added to the taglist.
disclaimers:
title & leading quote are from joni mitchell's a case of you
tags are subject to update as new chapters come
while their relationship deals in some toxic behaviors, rest assured the bdsm in this work never does. everything adheres to the tenants of safe, sane, & consensual and/or risk aware consensual kink. everything is consensual and within the realm of the negotiations both parties have agreed to. safe words will always be respected. i urge you to practice safely and do your research should you so choose to engage in your real life.
i give zero permission to repost/rehost my work anywhere.
gratitude:
my everlasting thanks to my partner for assisting me with editing on this work and to mimi for your cheerleading and moral support.
((based on the song âPlastic Flowersâ by The Front Bottoms and loosely on @fanders-adopt-a-ficâs prompt which you can find right here⊠sorry for changing it a lot lol))
summary: âWe are all eventually either the victims or the victimâs family.â âŠaka Virgil is half-dragon boy and Prince Roman takes him into his lovely kingdom, Imaj. Curse-breaking and surprising revelations ensue.
pairings: romantic Prinxiety (bet you didnât see that coming harhar), referenced romantic Logicality, familial Royality
tw: graphic violence, cussing/violence, some homophobia but not really, kissing, death mentions, food
word count: 8135
read on ao3
Sanders Sides tagging: @virmillion
The situation was simple, really, but at the same time so full of shit.
Virgil growled a bit in the back of his throat as he felt his attempts to escape the net that was currently entrapping him just get his horns and wings even more tangled with the thick rope. All he had been doing was running through the forest and now he was stuck and he was probably going to die here once whoever put the trap up caught him and gutted him like a fish-
He tried to take a few deep breaths, feeling a new but all too familiar wave of anxiety crashing over him. Virgilâs wings instinctively curled around him and he felt his eyes bulge out of his skull as more possibilities of what could happen to him swam around his head. They would shove knives into his heart and head, they would burn him on a stake, they would do all of this but still the worst pain would be when they screamed at him at how ugly of a freak he was, as if he wasnât painfully aware of that already.
Virgil whimpered until the sound of a twig snapping in half snapped him out of his daydreaming. Someone was talking towards him. Shit. Virgil tensed up, body shaking even harder as he peeked from between his wings to see who or what was coming towards him. He prepared himself for the worst as he squinted into the darkness just beyond the patch of trees right in front of him.
But like why is there still this concept that males donât like cute mushy romantic shit and being emotionally taken care of? Just the other day I was cuddling with my boyfriend and after admiring him for awhile I told him, âYour eyes are so beautiful, they look like mini oceansâ and I swear to god I heard him squeak in embarrassment and saw his cheeks actually begin to blush. Sometimes he likes being the little spoon and although Iâm half his size Iâm always happy to play jet pack. If heâs having a bad day he knows he can lay his head on my shoulder and just bawl his eyes out and I wonât think any less of him. Guys have emotional needs and want to feel loved and taken care of too yanno.
